


we're so much lovelier when we fall.

by jotunhell



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jotunhell/pseuds/jotunhell
Summary: the old god is dying. the old god wishes he was dead.





	we're so much lovelier when we fall.

The somber notes hung in the air along with the smoke from cigarettes and the stench of alcohol. There were some claps as expected, the enthusiasm drained out of them. Apollo cracked a tiny smile nonetheless. He wasn’t playing for them anyway, he was playing for himself. Applause wasn’t needed when he felt alive that moment. He leaned in the mic for the last time that night, a baritone voice pouring from the speakers. “Thank you.”  
  
He had done this so many times that the tiny and filthy stage didn’t bother him anymore. It was easy to slip his guitar into its case now but it never got easier to leave the stage knowing that his next few steps promised him nothing but a cold bench and a mockery of who he used to be.  
  
“That was a good set, Apollo.” Brushing his dark locks away from his eyes, he smiled at the bartender that he had considered a pleasant companion in such an awful place. His smile didn’t match his eyes though, far from it. “Thanks.”   
  
That word never failed to hit him. _Thanks._ He was a god. Praises, worship, devotion, those were the things he would receive on a daily basis but now every measly compliment thrown his way had him grateful. He was a pathetic shadow of himself. Apollo raised a brow when the bartender slid a shot of bourbon his way, callused fingers hesitantly wrapping around the small glass. “On the house.”  
  
Fine wine was never out of the question when he was on Olympus, especially with Zeus around, but now he would gladly accept any drink that would pleasantly burn his throat and dull his thoughts afterwards. Especially if It would help in blurring out reality, make it bearable altogether. He raised the glass and gave a nod of acknowledgement at the bartender before downing the drink.  
  
It was too fast. It touched his lips for a second and then it was gone.  
  
Setting the glass down, he tightened the grip around the handle of his guitar case and made his way out of the bar. The place wasn’t the best bar in town; it was small and often too crowded, the lighting was bad and the décor looked like shit but Apollo considered it home for the past few months. He would choose this place on any day.  
  
Once he was outside and the sound of upbeat music that replaced him was now muted, Apollo took a breath of the city air. The sky was still dark which at least gave him comfort of a sort. In an hour or two, it would lighten up and the sun would once greet him with a mocking smile. He sighed and walked over to the park, hoping that no one would take his favorite spot. Or at least Hermes was keeping the seat warm for him. The other god always had something that he was willing to share, food or clothing, things that he nicked as he continued to live to up to whatever semblance of his name.  
  
He smelled of cigarettes and despair, a stench that curled on his hair and clung to his clothes. He already tried on making poetry from that but he was stuck on a verse. Perhaps if he finished that and performed it somewhere, he’d earn quicker and get that cheap apartment down the street. He knew Hermes would appreciate a roof above their heads.


End file.
